


Breathe (it's just me)

by seabright



Series: Roadverse [2]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-06-06
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seabright/pseuds/seabright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But this isn’t New Orleans—this isn’t about Eugene and this isn’t about <i>them</i>—this is Mobile and this is about Snafu and he’s going to let Snafu have this, let him pull the strings like trying to coax a wild animal home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe (it's just me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely plotless follow up to [All These Roads](http://community.livejournal.com/emptyaddress/3385.html) written for [](http://thoracopagus.livejournal.com/profile)[thoracopagus](http://thoracopagus.livejournal.com/) because she's amazing. <3

Whenever Snafu visits Mobile, Eugene knows that he’s in for a harried weekend of Snafu’s slow smirks and knowing glances on top of avoiding his parents’ uncomfortable silence and the barely hidden disapproval in their eyes. He knows that they know, even as they duly prepare the guest room for Snafu (the one that he never uses), he knows that the maids know—everybody in this damn house knows and nobody dares to say a single word about it. Sometimes it infuriates him, sometimes it makes him want to shake them out of their passivity, wants them to get angry and express an opinion on this—anything at _all_. And other times, he’s grateful for their turned faces, their silence and their pretending because what can they say, how could they possibly accept this—better to pretend to not see it at all than to disown him, than to pretend _he_ doesn’t exist instead of pretending that _they_ don’t exist.

Sometimes he looks into Snafu’s eyes, and he sees the troubled expression that he hides away, all of the insecurities in the thin line of his mouth and the polite impassivity whenever he spends a little too long with his motherfatherbrother without Eugene there.

Maybe it’s why Snafu likes to fuck him in Mobile. Maybe it’s why Eugene lets him.

In Mobile, Snafu makes no pretense about what he wants. He pins Eugene against his bed—nothing like his old mattress in New Orleans—with one hand on his shoulder, other pressed against his ribcage. When he kisses Eugene, he invades his mouth with his tongue, sliding it past his teeth, stroking into the corners of his mouth with deft efficiency as Eugene threads his hands into Snafu’s hair and presses closer. Snafu bites gently at his tongue when Eugene tries to push his way in, denying him access—and Eugene’s hand tightens in the curly hair at the back of Snafu’s head. Snafu smirks against his mouth and he pulls away, sliding his mouth along Eugene’s jaw and breathing on the trail of saliva, before settling his lips on a point right underneath where his jaw met neck, scraping his teeth gently at the pulse point before sucking gently.

The sensation of the pressure goes straight to Eugene’s cock and his hips lift on their own accord. Snafu pulls his knees in closer, effectively trapping Eugene’s thighs and drags his hand over the bare skin of his stomach, fingers barely skimming the trail of hair down to Eugene’s cock, hovering there and teasing. His own cock is dragging wetness over the inside of Eugene’s thigh, a hard line of flesh against soft skin. Snafu shifts his mouth, dragging his tongue across the column of Eugene’s neck, pausing only to lick a line across Eugene’s shoulder, mouth a hot heat against Eugene’s skin—and he stops there, tongue dipping into the hollow between the wings of his collarbones. His hands are moving again, dragging fingernails down Eugene’s sides—not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to leave pink marks. Eugene shudders—tightens his grip in Snafu’s hair again out of frustration before shifting, trying to reach down.

Snafu growls, having now moved down to a nipple—and he bites lightly in warning. Eugene can’t stifle the aggravated cry that whines low in his throat.

“You’re going to kill me,” Eugene rasps when Snafu smoothes his tongue soothingly over a mark he’s created on Eugene’s ribcage, right over Eugene’s heart. Eugene wants—he wants to wrap his hands around Snafu’s cock and he wants to see that face go slack, silver eyes go hooded as Eugene twists his wrist in just the way that Snafu likes it, wants to turn them over and nose along Snafu’s inner thigh and mouth the head of his cock. But this isn’t New Orleans—this isn’t about Eugene and this isn’t about _them_ —this is Mobile and this is about Snafu and he’s going to let Snafu have this, let him pull the strings like trying to coax a wild animal home.

Snafu drags his tongue down, a heated path down Eugene’s sternum, mapping out familiar skin with his tongue—and he lifts his eyes up momentarily, just to watch Eugene’s face as he traces a circle around his navel. His hands are pressing Eugene’s wrists into the bed and Eugene is watching him, mouth parted and a dark intensity in his eyes. He can feel the line of Eugene’s cock pressing insistently against his collarbone and for a moment just dips his tongue into Eugene’s navel, shifting the slightest bit as he lowers his eyes again, eyelashes sweeping across the taut skin of Eugene’s stomach. He moves so that he’s tonguing Eugene’s hipbone and spends a moment here too, pressing his teeth against the unmarked skin and claiming his stake.

“You’re trying to make me beg,” Eugene concludes in a growl and he breaks free of Snafu’s hold, dragging the other man back up for a kiss. It’s fast and hard and Eugene doesn’t take no for an answer, sliding his tongue between Snafu’s teeth and stroking the roof of his mouth, sucking in Snafu’s lower lip and keeping him close when Snafu tries to pull away. It isn’t until Snafu presses the heel of his palm into the base of Eugene’s dick that Eugene lets him go with a gasp. Snafu smirks and lets up, dragging his fingers lightly down the length of Eugene’s cock, hand tightening only at the very top. His eyes are intent on Eugene’s face, the way that he sucks at the back of his lower lip, the sharp inhale at the very end, the way that he’s focusing on the slow slide of his dick in Snafu’s hand, palm already wet with pre-come.

Snafu’s smirk only widens as he bends down, takes the tip of Eugene’s cock into his mouth—he hated doing this at first but it was an acquired taste—swirls his tongue around the slit, grips the base and wills himself to relax before he goes down, managing to go only halfway before his body protests. Eugene’ head hits the backboard of the bed and his hips lift involuntarily. Snafu spends a few moments tonguing the underside of Eugene’s cock (it elicits a shudder from the other man) before he’s lifting his head, mouth sliding off with an obscene noise and he moves away—not even touching with his hands. The noise that Eugene makes is caught halfway between a snarl and a moan as his hips lift involuntarily and he grazes Snafu’s cheek with the spit slicked dick.

Snafu doesn’t even blink, just smiles real slow and when he speaks, his eyes flash, “Lube.”

Eugene wastes no time—it’s in the drawer of his nightstand where it’s always been and he half tosses it at Snafu’s face because Snafu’s being incredibly frustrating. Snafu seems to sense his growing impatience because it doesn’t take long before Eugene feels fingers sliding behind his balls, circling around his entrance only once before a finger is pushed inside. It’s been a while since they last fucked but they’ve done this enough times that Snafu knows exactly how to angle his finger, exactly where to press to reduce Eugene into a mess of incoherent cries. He watches Eugene’s face as he slips in a second finger, the way that his eyes are closed tight, the way that his body closes around the digits every time he presses in. Three fingers and it’s probably enough—Snafu concentrates on not hitting that spot every time so that Eugene doesn’t come too quickly, leans down to mouth at the juncture of Eugene’s neck and shoulder, another mark to add to the set of bruises.

It’s his mistake. When he pulls his fingers out and reaches for the lube again, he barely catches a glimpse of dark eyes, pupils dilated wide—and he’s being flipped onto his back. He doesn’t know how Eugene managed to get the lube, but it’s already coating his fingers as he slides his hands along Snafu’s cock. Snafu’s half struggling, trying to gain the advantage again but Eugene shoves him down, works his dick and Snafu can’t help but just watch as Eugene positions himself, lets the head of Snafu’s dick nudge in between his cheeks and then—

Heat closes around him and Snafu can’t think through the sudden roar of blood in his ears. He grips at Eugene’s hips, hard enough to leave bruises. Eugene has his eyes closed and only for a moment is the intrusion an unwelcome stretch—and then it gives way to a familiar fullness and sparks of pleasure as he slowly starts moving again.

Snafu leaves behind crescents in the small of Eugene’s back from where he digs his fingers in too hard, thrusts his hips to meet Eugene’s dictated pace, sliding again and again into that tight heat. Eugene’s expression is strange, like he’s trying his hardest not to give in to the rush of pleasure, trying his hardest to concentrate on this and make it last, eyes on Snafu’s face and breath coming out in taut pants, his own cock leaking all over the skin of Snafu’s stomach. Somewhere along the way, Snafu has his hand wrapped around it again, firm pressure and callused thumb swiping through the weeping tip, and Eugene has to bite back cries.

Eugene knows when Snafu is going to come in the moments before he actually does. His grip on Eugene’s cock falters and his hips stutter, his teeth clench together and his eyes press close—and then sudden liquid heat fills him. Eugene can’t help but follow him over the edge, lets himself go—lets himself be dragged into the undertow, emptying himself onto Snafu’s chest with a muffled cry. Snafu works his softening dick with another few strokes and Eugene slumps forward, clumsily finding Snafu’s mouth with his own as he works off the aftershock.

They stay quiet for a few moments, trading measured breaths before Snafu finally grunts and gently pushes Eugene off, sliding out of him. Eugene makes a disapproving noise though it sounds tired and Snafu runs a finger along his jawline, looking at the bruises blooming there. It’s not just bruises on his neck either—they trail down his chest, angry scratches running up Eugene’s sides and Snafu marvels quietly at that for a moment and feels smug, because all he can think is _this is mine_.

Eugene swats at his hand, opens his eyes to scowl at Snafu like he knows what he’s thinking. Snafu’s answering grin is predatory in the dim light of the lamp but he acquiesces and leans over the other man to grab the washcloth that Eugene keeps in his nightstand drawer. He spends only a moment cleaning them up before dropping the thing over the edge of the bed and lays down on the too-soft mattress.

Eugene moves closer, splays his hand against Snafu’s side and closes his eyes.

Snafu listens to him breathe and it lulls him to sleep.  


**Author's Note:**

> [roadverse master post](http://community.livejournal.com/emptyaddress/5170.html)


End file.
